


Beating Hearts.

by WhimsAndWorries



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Based on Roleplay, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male!Roxy Lalonde - Freeform, Painful for the Author, Past Character Death, Past Sexual Assault, Romance, Sadstuck, Zombie AU, Zombiestuck, emotional dependency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsAndWorries/pseuds/WhimsAndWorries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dirk Strider, and you've been fighting for your life alone for nearly five years now.</p><p>Your name is Rory Lalonde, and everything you know about yourself is about to die along with you. </p><p>~</p><p>A Zombiestuck AU where Dirk is surviving in a town he's claimed as his own when he meets Rory, who has about a week to live before he turns into something he doesn't want to turn into. It's been five years since the outbreak started, and both have found that five years is enough to change anyone.<br/>Based on a longterm roleplay!<br/>**EDIT: DISCONTINUED**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The evening breeze is harsh and frigid in your face as you sprint and leap from rooftop to rooftop on your way to the bell tower nearby for your weekly scavenging. You're avoiding the evening traffic by traveling the high routes today, despite the roofs being a bit slippery from the beginnings of sleet and the fact that it's getting colder each day. As mildly normal as it seems, you're not avoiding busy city workers chatting away on their cell phones and arguing into their Bluetooth, but rather a much more vicious throng: It's been five years since a deadly sickness caused by a new, blood borne virus obliterated the majority of the population and turned them into homicidal, reanimated corpses that are threatening you at every moment.

Your name is Dirk Strider, this town is your kingdom, and you're it's ruler trying to survive in it.

You thought you were ready for this as a teenager, but you were given a rude awakening when your family and friends managed to get killed in the midst of the chaos that had broken through your city on the first or second night. A lot of people died when hell broke loose, actually. You were spared, with the help of your older brother, and managed to survive this long in a small town that you've hoarded all for yourself.  
"And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls," You say with a sigh as you approach the tower of a small, Baptist church. You grab on the tattered, velvety rope with calloused hands and give the old fashioned bell a harsh tug, sending a wave of sound crashing to your ears and to the world around you. "It tolls for thee!"  
Fan fucking tastic. Getting your John Donne poetry out of the way, you hurry to the edge of the roof and spot the crowd shambling towards you, giving you the green light to hurry to the plaza to scour for whatever you can get. You need everything you can get for the winter.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and this is your kingdom. You will survive.

 

~ ~

 

You wish that things would've turned out differently for you; You wish you had taken the proper precautions to keep your family safer. You wish the undead hadn't killed your mother or infected your sister. You especially wish said sister hadn't scratched you up and bled all over you, giving you barely a couple weeks to live. It's been ten days since you were infected, and about three days since your heart has stopped beating, making you feel less and less human every day. Being bitten took one or two days to kill, but being scratched pretty much sucked ass, considering it took a lot longer to take into effect. Sciency bacteria stuff or whatever, you presume as you walk tiredly into a new town. The sign is faded and hard to read, so you can't really tell where you are or where you're going, you just know that you're tired as hell and you really miss your family. 

Your name is Rory Lalonde, and you have five days to live.

You yawn a big, exhausted yawn as you reach to wipe your eyes from their heaviness; you could use a place to crash and something hot to eat as of right now, but couldn't everybody? You may be a dead corpse by default, but you still felt and emoted and did the majority of things that humans did, aside from the unsatisfiable hunger that lurched in your belly and in the back of your brain. The humanity inside of you tugged you away from the cadavers in the street, but the monster that was starting to invade your mindset told you to eat, to feed. It's been about two weeks since you've seen anyone alive, as you had to abandon your best friend, Jane, to avoid anything bad happening. You miss her more than anything in the world. You wonder if she's doing alright and- 

Oooh. Bells? That couldn't be good. 

Instead of going to investigate the sound that was coming from nearby, you hurry and duck under cover, more frightened of the people behind the ringing than anything. Maybe it was automatic or whatever, but you seriously doubted they worked at this point in time. You walk along under the shield of shadows and old stores as you approach a sign that's pointing straight ahead: Central Plaza. You try and resist the urge to go investigate, but fail miserably, hurrying along with a stupid grin on your face as you're eager to see what this town has in store.

Your name is Rory Lalonde, and you might as well explore before you die.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kittens are found. Cool kids are exploited. Hilarity ensues.  
> (Enjoy it while you can)

Your plans are flawless…most of the time. 

Mark off a place to explore, create a diversion, grab what you can and leave until next week. Your little town is accommodated to you needs, and was pretty safe since rarely anyone came into this rural dump of a town: Escape plans, zombie traps, arsenals, the whole nine yards to make this place as fortified as the end of the world would allow. Skimming through your little map of the town, you mark off each shop you need to pick apart start down a ladder from the roof to the floor of an alley. The wind is starting to pick up a little, and you have to close your tattered coat a little tighter to stop your shivers as you put your map away and hurry to the plaza. You dash into a store nearby and begin your practically fruitless search for supplies, coming out with a can of beans and a box of tampons. You didn't have the need for tampons, but why the fuck not? The situation may one day call for a phallus-shaped cotton stick, and you would be prepared.  
"Fucking pathetic." You sigh, a little more glumly than normal. The thought of leaving your town because of a lack of supplies sucked, but things were getting tough around here. There's nothing you can do to stop that. You're about to head to the next store when you hear a loud clattering sound nearby, making you jump and whip around aggressively. You unclip your weapon of choice, a double edged Emperor katana, from your belt and stand strongly, ready to fight.  
You sigh in relief when you see a small, frail kitten emerge from the alley, probably in the middle of looking for something to eat without being eaten itself. "Hey…" You say in your best kitty voice, kneeling down to greet the creature. He looks like he's shaking and terrified, but the fact that you're human probably comforts him enough to approach you and say hello. He lies on the ground and squirms towards you in the odd manner of cats before you get closer to tickle his black tummy with a stupidly happy grin. You should be scavenging for food, not playing with a ridiculous kitten, but can you really be blamed? You reach into your bag and fish out some saltine crackers, knowing it was all you had to give to the kitten. When he sniffs them and takes a couple nibbles, you unleash your inner stupid and scoop up the tiny feline and giggle like a fucking nerd, holding him close. You make an internal decision to take care of this cat, glad no one's around to watch you act like a total fucking dweeb while you snuggle the cat close. It's been ages since you've seen anything like it!

~

Oh my god.

You watch the scene unfold in front of you from the corner of a store, too afraid of what might happen to be out in the open just yet. You were walking towards the plaza when you noticed a tall, elegant figure dashing in the same direction, rousing fear and curiosity that would certainly be the double death of you. You don't regret following after getting an eyeful of an attractive blond playing with a kitten that you kind of smile at too: Cats. You love cats so much. Your worn shoes are burning your feet from walking for so long, but you couldn't really give a shit and a half right now. You need to investigate further, after all! You wonder how all of the stray kitties in the world were doing, considering their owners were either dead, undead or on the move; this one looked fine…and the hottie petting him looked pretty fine too. You get a little braver and peek out from the corner to get a better view of the stoic-looking tough guy feeding the stray crackers. After a minute or two, you're in plain sight, smiling at the two and wishing you could feel happy over something so small. 

~

You notice something moving out of the corner of your eye in the midst of playing with the cat, and you spring into action once you realize that the jig is up. You manage to place the cat down, pick up your weapon and spring into an aggressive stance with a hard look on your scruffy face despite feeling embarrassed that you were caught nerding out over something so itty bitty and adorable.  
"You've got ten seconds to explain what you want before I kill you." You spit angrily, meaning every word of it. You hate Tourists more than you hate the undead; this one was thin and sickly, but those were the ones that fought the hardest and could potentially be the deadliest. You know this by experience. When he croaks out something that sounds like 'J-just passing', you lower your sword just the slightest and swipe to the side, getting closer with heavy footsteps and making the intruder look absolutely terrified of you.  
"Well?" You ask, relentlessly. "Pass through. Get out of my sight."  
You're not a helpful, loving, forgiving man that's about to pick up a stranger and offer your home to him. Not anymore, at least. You've got yourself to worry about, and you're not about to let anyone else into your life…except for maybe a cute black kitten. Speaking of which, that very same black kitten is sounding very distressed right now, making you turn your head to see what's going on. Fuck. Looks like there won't be any dinner tonight. You run to the cat to scoop him up and hurry to get away from the shambling group of undead starting to wander back, despite the distraction. Maybe it wasn't enough today, but you couldn't care less. You scamper lightly up a wall and onto a balcony as carefully as you could with a kitten in your hands and a sword clipped on your belt, grabbing onto the ledge and pulling yourself up with sheer upper body strength. 

~

You can't help but stare at that powerful body as the blond basically ninjas his way up a wall with a kitten in hand; everything about that turned you on and you forgot for a moment about just why he was running. Oh, yeah…zombies behind you. You turn around and your unbeating heat jolts in surprise before you remember that, lately, the undead haven't been messing with you, probably since you don't smell alive anymore, and you don't freak out the way you used to.  
"Hey! HEY!"  
Oh, what? You turn around to the sound of someone calling and you look: It's that hunky mystery man! How romantic. You give him a smile and a little wave, making him freak out like crazy. As he's screaming instructions at you, you walk under the balcony and look up at him from below, pretty safe and sound while he looks frustrated and jumps down to the balcony, holding his hand out for you.  
"Grab on!" He yells, frantically. "You have time, just fucking grab on!"  
"You suuuuure?" You ask with the cockiest smile on this dystopian earth. This guy was so worried and it actually makes you laugh a little, not used to that kind of transition. Whatever! You grab on anyway and flail just a little as he pulls you up. "Your upper body strength is so impressive!" You say as you kind of struggle to get on the balcony and stand up; when you do, you kind of lean against him in a false, dramatic relief.  
"Hey there, stud. How's it hanging?" You ask with a smirk. When you ask, he rolls his eyes and goes up a ladder to the roof, picking up the cat watching with 'come on, buddy' and a soft coo as the kitten mewls. You follow him up the ladder, too curious to take the hint.  
"Wait! Where are you going?" You ask, curiously. He gives you a nasty, sarcastic look and bends to arrange his backpack, the kitten in his largest pocket.  
"Home." He replies in a sassy tone as he finishes and makes a leap across the gap between buildings. Such a dashing asshole.  
You smile and nod. "Well…thanks for saving my life!" You call, wrapping your arms around yourself as it starts to get cold. Your dead flesh was definitely not handling this weather well. You hear the kitten mewl after a particularly strong gust of wind, and the mystery man nearby says 'shh, shh, it's okay, baby' to the squirming backpack. Could this get any cuter?  
Okay…you're really getting cold. Like, SERIOUSLY cold. You whimper and pull your tattered sweater around yourself a little tighter for even a scrap of warmth as you start looking for a way down; you want to find a place to stay the night where it's warm and not out in the open like this room, though you highly doubt a place like that exists around here. You've stayed in the cold some nights, but you just hate it so much. You're about to climb down when you hear that same voice calling you again, making you turn.  
"Hey! Blondie!"  
A wooden plank clatters on the edge nearby you, connecting the two roofs, and you look up again.  
"Come on. It's getting dark and you'll get cold out here."  
With a smile, you jump on the board and start to cross, excited to get inside and get warm. You had a feeling this wouldn't be too bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out hastagshitbrianasays's Lovers or Whatever!
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/948073/chapters/1852343


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to trust SOMEONE in the apocalypse.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it all. 

With an annoyed sigh, you step back to let the blond cross the board as you start to think about the situation, your tired feet starting to ache a little from standing up all day. _/Okay, then/_ You think to yourself. _/I can either risk my life and my home for this stranger and preserve a perfectly good life like a decent human being, or I can let him die out here in the cold, forget he ever existed and wallow in a sea of guilt/_

"Meeeeew."

Shut up for a second, cat.

By the time you start to snap out of your state of pondering, you're able to hold out your hand and offer some aid getting off the board when your unexpected company finally crosses, making him look grateful, if not a little flirtatious. God damn, you spend way too much time thinking; maybe that's why your hide is always at stake.

Steak…god, that sounds good…you're so hungry…

No, fuck, snap out of that idiocy. You hurry to the next board and repeat the same tedious process of crossing the roof, picking up the board and lying it across to help this poor bastard out; he crosses with all of the grace and dignity he could muster (AKA, nearly falling of twice) before jumping off and wrapping his arms around you, thankfully. 

"Oooooh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much!"

He's touching you. You squirm out of the grip and nod in return, as you start towards the next building. "Ah. Rule number one: You-"

"Got to have fun?"

_Damn it._

"No." You correct him coldly, shooting him an ugly glance. "No running your mouth when it's evident that I don't give a shit. Rule number two, you're the cat sitter while you're not balancing across beams with the grace of an ostrich. Got it?" 

He nods and seems to get it. You hurry across the roof and repeat the steps over and over again, cursing to yourself over wasting this much daylight to help out a Tourist. This was going to be a long trip home. 

 

~

 

You can listen to the rules. You can listen to the harsh retorts and the nagging tone and the sarcastic remarks, but you absolutely cannot listen to the quiet: Distant screeches of more complex undead and the creaks and moans of old buildings in the wind fill the air while you walk to wherever this guy was taking you. When you realize that there are no birds and no bug sounds, you cry… a lot.Tonight was a more exhausted, frightened round of sobs that were mostly quiet and to yourself…this guy didn't look like he care much at all, so you decide to swallow your tears and try and man up for him. 

After a while of balancing and watching the blond jump from roof to roof, you follow him down a long line of buildings on the way to a towering building that looked like a hotel, with balconies and fire escapes lining the sides; your feet are screaming for rest, and you're starting to stumble and shiver from your state of I'm-basically-turning-into-a-zombie. There's got to be a way to stir some conversation with this guy! You're undead, but his low, growly, thickly-accented voice makes you feel so _alive._

More screeches, this time closer. He isn't stirring, but you hurry to catch up to the blond and stand near him, watching him store and hand the small, tired kitten to you. Right…rule number two. 

"You heard that, didn't you?" You ask, a little anxiously as you hold the kitten. "Are they close? Are we safe?"

He shakes his head and keeps going down the concrete roof. 

"'Course we're not safe." He replies bluntly. "It's dark and there's Crawlers 'nd Stalkers fucking everywhere. We'll be safe inside…don't worry." 

The last part relaxes you the slightest and you nod, clearing your throat and shivering as another hard wind shakes you up. 

"So, uh…what's your name?" You ask, innocently. 

"Insufferable prick." 

Right. You couldn't expect less. 

"Well…uh…okay, I.P." You mutter, fostering the feline when it mewls in your arms. "Do you like cats? I love cats and I used to have one. What are we naming this one?" You ask excitably, wanting to stray your mind away from the topic. "

"Jesus fuck, dude," The attractive blond practically growls, taking out a flashlight and pocketing it for whatever reason. "Name it whatever you want."

"Brilliant! LMAO at your foolishness, because I'm naming him Frigglish and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" 

He actually cracks a shadow of a smile, and you can't help but grin lovingly at the sight; you haven't seen a smile in so fucking long, and it breaks your heart in the best way possible to see someone doing it again. "Frigglish?" He asks, his tone almost gentle and playful. "That's a weird fucking name for a cat."

"It's a perfect name for a cat." You correct him, watching the attractive man stop and start down a ladder. 

"My place is just down here. Watch your step…escape's kinda creaky."

"Oooo…spooky." You say with a giggle and you follow, Frigglish in tow, as you go with the insufferable prick down to wherever. It rushes to your mind that he might be doing this all with malicious intent; he could do horrible things to you, and you're not entirely sure if you could run or fight back; you were less sure that you cared. You have five days or less to live…what does it all matter anyway?  The awful thoughts are interrupted by a faint chuckle that melts your heart.

"The spookiest. Jump on down."

He's offering his hand, looking open and comfortable despite keeping the stoic look on his face; hot damn, if you could just leap into his arms and kiss a smile onto his lips, you would, but you would most likely be murdered for that. He didn't even like your initial hug, so better not push your luck. When you step down, you practically leap in his arms and he steadies you as the fire escape wobbles threateningly. You follow his example of slipping off shoes before he opens up the balcony door and walks in, giving you the okay to come in with him. You have to admit that you're a little scared. 

 

~

 

You've never been more terrified in your life.

Well…that's a lie, but this is one of the more terrifying times that you've gone through. You accept a stranger into your home, and now you have to trust them to not slit your throat while you're asleep; thoughts of your last Tourist encounter like this one invade your brain, but you're quick to shove them out. 

"Nice place you have." You hear the blond ramble, the door shutting behind him and locking out the wind. Aw, fuck. Lights? You go to the switch and click it a few times…nothing.

"Thanks. Want to see the best part of it all?" You ask, going to a messy corner with a tangle of wires, chords and extensions that link to parts of the wall. You go to a small machine and grab the handle, pulling it once, twice, three times before hearing it roar to life: Lights buzz and hiss with life, and you can practically hear the walls groaning as water begins flowing through it like blood in the veins. "Let there be light. Nifty, huh? I'm pretty good with handy work…want a shower?" You ask with a proud smile, taking off your backpack and setting it aside. "The water's hot for a whole ten minutes when you're lucky."

He nods and smiles at you happily, and you can see Frigglish bounding about as he examines his new home; it wasn't ever your apartment…you just kind of claimed it as your own.

"Maybe a lukewarm shower if that's okay. I'm not a fan of super magma hot showers." He says with a sheepish smile. Honestly…you're starting to warm up to him; you like the way he rambles and the weird little curl in his hair, and you like his bright, enthusiastic voice that sounded just the slightest bit accented and made you smile.

"'s no problem. I'll show you how to adjust the temperature and maybe Frigs could use a bath, too." 

You glance over to the cat, who gives you an ugly look at the mere mention of the word 'bath'. 

"Will there be hot water left for you?" He asks with concern in his voice. "It's your house after all and I don't want to impose!"

"Nah. Hospitality and all. Ladies first." You say as you go to and open the bathroom door; Hospitality and all.

He takes the time to roll his eyes before going to the shower, giving you a little wink. "We could always share, you know. I wouldn't mind cleaning up and getting some help." 

You cut him off when you hand him the captured feline.

"Take our lovechild instead. And…it's Dirk, but the way."

He gives you an impeccable smile, taking the cat and nearly blushing from ear to ear.

"Rory."

"Hey."

"Hi."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Andrea, and you have just figured out a way to layout your text in a neater way.
> 
> You're also too lazy to go back and change the other chapters.
> 
> What will you do? 
> 
> More to come (as I casually replay Zombie Love Song over and over again)!  
> Check out Lovers or Whatever by hashtagshitbrianasays!!!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/948073/chapters/1852343

**Author's Note:**

> More to come!  
> Dedicated to hashtagshitbrianasays !  
> Check out Lovers or Whatever by her!!!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/948073/chapters/1852343


End file.
